


The Duel

by Rheyaa



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Lokyrie, Valki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 16:32:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18392147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rheyaa/pseuds/Rheyaa
Summary: In an AU split off of Ragnarok the movie, Asgard was not destroyed, but saved. Ragnarok was avoided at the very end, Hela defeated and dead. Thor and Loki now share the throne, and Valkyrie has taken up her rightful place guarding the throne of Asgard. (As-guarding it. :D) But all the grandeur of royalty begins to weigh heavy on her tired soul, something she and Loki share. He enjoys her little bows, but tires of her irreverence to his high position; eventually they duel it out. Could the heat of battle turn to the heat of love? Or at least some fantastic makeouts?





	1. Ascend the Throne

“My lord.”

 

Valkyrie bowed low before the throne, only a trace of irony still within her. The years on Sakar had made their mark, and not just on her liver; even in the gravest of royal ceremonies, she still tended to have a little smirk on her face. 

 

Her irreverence to the Asgardian throne royally pissed off the Allfather, and mildly irked Thor, but Loki and she seemed to at least share an understanding. He’d taken up ruling duties alongside his brother, at least for now; Thor had felt that Loki’s talents, such as they were, could be put to better use building a better Asgard, rather than trying to destroy it. Or Midgard. Or anywhere else. 

 

There were two thrones there now, therefore, side by side; two golden thrones, two brothers, one made of light and the other of darkness. Valkyrie served them both; it was her duty, her destiny, and her birthright as a Valkyrie. Standing beside the golden thrones, golden crown on her head, golden spear in her right hand, she felt…

 

...completely fucking ridiculous.

 

I mean, how pretentious did you have to be? Everyone in Asgard already  _knew_ who ruled them. Did they have to have these ceremonies every other day, it seemed? Roaring crowds, beautiful banners, and a lot of heavy leather and itchy fabric. Sure, she was restored to her rightful place and all and that was great, but it was all a little  _much_ for the half-drunk warrior. 

 

Once today's ceremony was over, the moment she could be excused, Valkyrie stalked off to the elaborate suite she’d been given in the palace. Slamming the door behind her, she yanked off the half-horned helmet and threw it and the elaborate spear in the corner, before plopping herself down on the - gold, what else - colored couch and putting her boots up on the impeccable table. She let out a loud, annoyed groan.

 

“I didn’t much like the ceremony either.” 

 

Valkyrie opened her eyes with her head upside down over the couch to see Loki, dark prince of Asgard, leaning casually against her (golden, what the  _ fuck  _ was it with these people and gold) doorway, smirking at her. 

 

“I feel like I should get up and bow to you, my lord, but to be honest, these are my chambers, and I’d appreciate it if you’d just sort of do it yourself. Go on, bow to yourself, I’d  _ love  _ to see it.”

 

Loki grinned and sauntered over, leaning down over the back of the couch, his pale, green-clad arms on either side of her head. She noticed , quite suddenly, that Loki was the only blasted thing in this palace not  _ decked out in fucking gold _ . 

 

“To be completely honest, I rather enjoy the sight of you bowing to me,” he whispered, his lips so close to the shell of her ear that he was quite nearly licking her.

 

Valkyrie made a rude, disgusted noise and shoved herself up from the couch and away from Loki; she turned round to face him. 

 

“Excuse me,  _  my lord _ ,” she said, giving a mockery of a bow, “but you are in my chambers now and I don’t have to serve you. Not in here.”

 

Loki sauntered towards her. “I believe, my dear girl, that as a Valkyrie, you serve me everywhere.” 

 

Valkyrie crossed her arms. “I serve the  _ throne _ , not your personal interests, my prince. When the  _ throne  _ is threatened, you can let me know. Until then, get out of my ridiculous living room.”

 

Loki paused, and chucked. “You find the living arrangements not to your liking?” 

 

Valkyrie rolled her eyes and glanced around the room. “It’s a bit...opulent.” 

 

“Mm. I know what you mean.”

 

“Do you.”

 

“Yes.” Loki’s gaze and tone sharpened. “I lived for years on the edges of space, sent out to the farthest reaches of the netherworld; do not question my years of - “

 

“Oh, blah, blah, blah. You didn’t get the throne so you had to live in the _second_ nicest room in the palace. Boo fucking hoo. I lost everything I had, don’t come crying to me, _my prince_.” She spat the last word out like a curse and plopped back on the couch, back to Loki, dismissing him.

 

Loki stared down at her quizzically for thirty seconds or so. “You know, I could have you arrested for lack of respect.”

 

Valkyrie shrugged. “So arrest me. Throw me in that pretty dungeon. It’s  _ still  _ better than any place on Sakar.”

 

“I would like for you to bow to me sincerely.”

 

“Make me.”

 

“I can, in fact, do just that.”

 

“So do it.”

 

“I want it to come from  _ you _ .”

 

Valkyrie laughed, and stood up. She turned and faced Loki, flexing her arms; stepping closer to him, she glared up into his eyes from her shorter stature, strength radiating from her.

 

“I bow to the throne, Prince Loki. Never, ever to you.” 


	2. The Banquet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki requests a specific guard to attend him at an event.

Loki had left shortly after their little tete-a-tete in her living room, much to Valkyrie's relief. She'd finally been able to relax, all on her own; to be gross on her own, rude on her own, naked on her own, having finally thrown off the extravagant and lavish costumes of the Asgardian court. 

There  _were_ some perks to living in Asgard, even the sullen Valkyrie could admit. The water here was always hot, always flowing; only the very privileged had been able to afford such a luxury in Sakar. Or rather, been granted it by the Grandmaster. Valkyrie took an especially long time bathing here, not because she felt the need to smell good for anyone else - they could smell her armpits for all the hoots she gave - but to luxuriate in the experience herself. She'd even risked some ridicule - by Loki, who else - by ordering extra oils and perfumes for her large, steaming bathtub. 

She luxuriated there now; taking an opaque black lacquered comb and dipping it in some mint oil she'd had brought here specially. Perks. Sometimes they were nice. Dipping once into the water, to wet her hair, the guard let her eyes close. She raised the comb and drew it slowly, slowly, down her black locks; letting the scent and the soft tingling sensation wash over her...

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Fuck.

Valkyrie opened her eyes, her expression hotter than the water. "What is it?" she asked in the politest tone she could muster. "I'm in the middle of something in here!" 

The voice of one of the palace pages came quavering through the door. "I-it's me - S-Sebastian - my lord Loki sends his regards to the esteemed lady Valkyrie, and requests her services tonight, so she may accompany and guard him. He wishes you ready at six, my lady."

Valkyrie groaned, letting her eyes close in annoyance. It was four-thirty now, she'd have to eat, get dressed...

"Can't he take somebody else?" she yelled in the general direction of the door.

"He...he specifically requested you, my lady. He said it required your...sensitive touch."

Despite herself, Valkyrie laid a hand over her eyes and started to laugh at that. 

"All right. Tell him his most sensitive guard will attend. Those words exactly. You are dismissed." 

\--------

Loki certainly could look resplendent, when he wished.

As Valkyrie approached him that evening, he fairly shone in an outfit she'd never seen before. A long, green robe adorned him; an iridescent green, the color of the later leaves of spring, when the flowers are full and heavy on their stems. A gold rope belt encircled his slim waist, and the robe lay such that his right arm was left completely bare. A fine gold crown adorned his oiled, slicked hair; the effect was magnificent. 

Valkyrie herself had, as befitted the more formal events, worn her "formal" armor; it was less practical than it was showy. The original armor of the Valkyries had been resplendent silver; her own current armor was a nod to that. In gold, of course. She'd been befitted by the palace clothiers; it had taken months, but she had a full closet now, for various events and purposes. 

Tonight she wore leather; it was softer than metal, easier to move in, but less helpful for deflecting blows. Since there was little actual danger tonight, the leather made more sense. It criss-crossed over her chest in an intricate pattern, showing the sign of the throne of Asgard; the winged crown. Whorls and curls adorned the entire outfit, including the pleated leather skirt. She wore the helm of Asgard as well, with two wings swooping up either side. But where the usual palace guards carried a spear, Valkyries had their weapons on their person. On her back, sheathed, was her sword, blue and bright; she had multiple daggers strapped to her arms and legs that could be whipped out at a moment's notice. 

She did not wildly appreciate Loki's piercing gaze moving over her body as she approached; Valkyrie's eyes narrowed, and he smirked.

"I do so appreciate you coming," he murmured once she was close to him. "I do so need to be  _safe_ at the party tonight."

Valkyrie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'll be sure to protect you from all the incredibly dangerous threats of a garden party. We going or what?" 

"Now, now, my sweet Valkyrie. I believe you owe me the courtesy of a bow."

It was true. Or at least customary, and there were other guards in this hallway, other people watching, and she didn't particularly want her behavior noted by the Allfather. 

Smoldering, Valkyrie bowed low to Loki, whose eyes were fairly lighting up with glee.

"Allow me to accompany you, my prince," she intoned formally, in the voice she'd learned to adopt for Court. When she rose, her eyes had gone somewhat dead; this was duty, nothing more. "I will remain at your side and ensure your safety." 

Loki looked her up and down, pointedly, for much longer than was strictly necessary, before turning around. He clicked his fingers at her, and Valkyrie followed in suppressed rage. 

They walked for several minutes in silence, before Loki spoke up.

"I suppose you'd rather be with my brother tonight?"

"I am here to serve the throne, my prince. You are the throne. I am happy to serve."

"Mm, that wasn't what I asked."

Valkyrie's grip tightened on the pommel of her dagger. "My personal preferences have no stake in this, my lord." 

"Oh, but they do," Loki murmured in that low purr of his. Valkyrie ground her teeth. The prince was very suddenly in front of her; he held up a hand and she halted, both their caps fluttering slightly in the Asgardian evening breeze. 

"Your duty to the crown can only take this relationship so far. I want to see how far  _you'd_ go. How much  _you_ can take."

Valkyrie raised her eyebrows. "I believe you saw the strength of my capabilities on Sakar, my prince." 

"Indeed. But I want to see what you yourself are like." He stepped closer to her thin, closing the distance.

Valkyrie looked up into his pale face, framed with dark hair and a darkness in those smoldering eyes. She held his gaze resolutely, firm in her convictions and her stance. 

Loki reached up one gentle finger and drew it along her cheek; in a millisecond Valkyrie had whipped a dagger out of her sleeve and held it to the prince's throat. 

"Touch me again, and I'll have a lot less throne to guard," she hissed through clenched teeth. Loki smirked in response, his finger still holding up a lock of her hair.

"I'd be careful if I were you,  _pet_ ," he said, tone cool and condescending. "You don't want anyone seeing you threatening the throne you're sworn to guard." 

Valkyrie swallowed her pride down into her stomach and stepped back, flipping the dagger back into her sleeve, eyes furious. 

"Come," Loki said smoothly, and turned to walk into the party, gesturing with a single finger. 

\------------

Valkyrie stood a step or two behind the Prince all night. He chatted gaily with important dignitaries, friends, warriors, and various other gods and guests of Asgard; Valkyrie, warrior that she was, kept a fairly stoic look upon her face and kept most of the eye-rolling down to a bare minimum. 

She and Loki did not speak again for the length of the party; but that the people made a slight way for them wherever they walked. A little opening in the crowd, for the Prince and the Valkyrie, to allow them passage within that bubble of respect; Loki seemed to gloat within it. 

By the time they were done, it was very late; the moon was setting as they walked back along performed walkways. Loki paused to lift a violet flower to his nose, and Valkyrie hid a yawn. 

"I didn't think your lot got tired," he said, without looking at her.

Valkyrie hid another yawn. "We do. We just don't show it, and we can go far longer than most should the need call for it. Courage is not feeling weakness or fear, it is acting despite it." A third yawn; she leaned on a nearby marble pillar. The scent of violets was heavy around them in the warm night air; she hung onto the pole. The yawns began to come thick and fast; she realized what was happening only a moment before she passed out.

Loki was there, catching her in his arms; he smiled down at her sleeping face, snapped his fingers, and they were gone. 

 


End file.
